If Bella Swan Had a Brain
by Instead of Reality
Summary: Bella and Edward return from their Italian adventure, and Edward reveals to Bella that he never stopped wanting her. Warning: not exactly Bella/Edward. Slightly OOC.


**If Bella Swan Had a Brain**

**A _Twilight_ Fan-Fic**

**Summary:** Bella and Edward return from their Italian adventure, and Edward reveals to Bella that he never stopped wanting her. Warning: not exactly Bella/Edward.

****DO NOT READ IF YOU WANT ADORABLE, FLUFFY, ROMANTIC, GUSHY STUFF TO HAPPEN BETWEEN OUR KLUTZY HEROINE AND OUR EMO HERO** **

**Author's Note**: This is what should have happened, had Stephenie Meyer written a brain into Bella's head.

Super-duper shout-out to my person, the Cristina to my Meredith (if you get the _Grey's Anatomy_ reference), who graciously beta'd for this ficlet, amortentiaxinduced. Love you!

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><p>He is back. Back.<p>

Edward Cullen has returned to me, is sitting in my room once again, is holding me in his arms, is telling me, in his voice of velvet, that he wants me again.

No, not _again_. He has never stopped wanting me, that he was just trying all he could to keep me safe, that not for a moment since he walked away in those woods has he not thought of me.

My heart, so long a cavity in my chest, is returning to life and pumping blood through my veins.

Edward is telling me that he loves me, wants me, needs me, can't live without me. My heart, my soul, my mind are released from their prison of misery. The emotions that have been locked deep down are allowed to tumble free, and I can once more think of our relationship without the searing agony of his departure coloring my memories.

I relive in my mind the moment we met, the Biology classes we shared, my almost fatal accident in the parking lot, his ignoring me, our encounter in Port Angeles where I was almost raped, our picnic in the meadow, our first kiss, the adventure with James, my disastrous eighteenth birthday party, his leaving me all alone in the woods with vengeful vampires and adolescent werewolves…

Wait.

I rewind and then fast forward the movie in my head.

So... he decided that he was trying to protect me, so he _left_. He _lied_ to me. He couldn't just tell me to my face that he was afraid he was endangering me. We couldn't discuss it like two normal people. Okay, well, fine, two rational beings—neither of us are exactly normal.

Who the hell does he think he is? I am smart enough to make my own decisions. Shouldn't I have gotten a say in what happens in my life? Sure, fate has dictated that I am to fall over every surface I encounter and that I am to lose my heart to a century-old vampire.

Fate never said anything about me losing my brain.

"Wait," I say aloud, looking up at him as he leans down to kiss me. The smell of his breath overwhelms me and for a moment, I forget what I was going to say. Oh, how I've missed that scent. But I push him away. "Wait," I repeat, sitting up.

He complies, shifting over slightly. "Yes, love?"

I repeat everything that has been running through my head. His brow furrows as I try to explain that I have, in fact, a fully functioning brain. He seems confounded to find that I can think it through myself.

He kisses my temple. "Bella..."

"No, no, no! Listen to me!"

He gives me his crooked smile, but at the moment, it just seems like he's smirking at me. Silly Bella, he's probably thinking, trying to reason things out. This is why I have to be with her so she doesn't hurt herself by using brain cells.

"Edward? Are you even listening to me?"

"Yes, love," he answers patiently, as if I am the most adorable creature on the face of the planet. Well, I like that he thinks I'm adorable, but I'd rather he treat me as his intelligent, human equal instead of the cute, fluffy kitten he wants to pet on the head.

"You couldn't have just _told_ me?"

"Told you what?" he asks politely.

"Told me the _truth_ about why you were leaving," I explain, trying to sound as condescending as he can.

"You weren't going to let me go," he responds, sounding as if he is explaining basic arithmetic to a first grader. He wins at condescending. Then again, he's had decades to practice.

I shake my head venomously. "No, I probably wasn't. You're right. But that's because I love you. You still should have told me. I should have had a say."

"You weren't going to let me leave without making a fuss."

I huff. "Of course not! You had just fought a vampire for my sake and made me go to prom! I thought you would stick around for a little bit longer, seeing as you're immortal! Of course it was going to be a shock, of course I wasn't going to just let you go. But at least I would have known why you were leaving—I wouldn't have thought that you hated my guts, only liked toying with my emotions for fun, and were off shagging a beautiful succubus."

"What did you just say?" he asks, startled by the words tumbling from my mouth. I am too, but I am feeling brave for once in my life.

"You have better hearing than I do," I retort. I watch him as he ponders, his forehead creasing and relaxing, his eyes darting back from my face to his hands to the wall to the window to my face again to the crescent-shaped scar left from James' attack.

"I'm sorry," he says finally, his voice soft, gentle, tender, beautiful. "I should—I should have told you. It was wrong of me. But, Bella, please try to understand that I was doing it to protect you. You would have followed us—"

"Maybe, maybe not. I might've just written you a bunch of rather desperate letters. We'll never know now, will we? But if you could have had enough faith in my intelligence and just said 'Hey Bella, my family's moving because I think I put you in too much danger and I still love you but we need to try living in Alaska for a while', that would have been nice. I could have told you you were being stupid and I didn't care and I wanted to be with you, but you had to make all of the decisions."

"Bella, I'm so, so sorry." He reaches for my hands and cradles them in his own large, icy palms.

"Can you say something else besides that?" I ask, a little irritated. I don't know what I want him to say, but I think I want him to admit that I am right. I wish the damn vampire could just read my mind already.

"I was trying to protect you."

"Edward, you're supposed to be my boyfriend—not my father."

"Are you ever going to forgive me?" he asks, his black eyes pleading with me. He wants my forgiveness, but he also desperately needs to go hunting. The more time he spends with me, the more difficult it is for him to resist my blood.

"Probably," I say, knowing that the second he puts his lips on mine, my will shall melt away and I'll be a puddle in his hands. "But you need to get this through your marble skull: I made the choice to be with you. My own personal decision. Not yours, but mine." As I speak, I become angrier at the injustice he has dealt me. "And you told me all the implications that come with this whole relationship thing. I'm putting my life in your hands by being this close to you. I trusted you and I'm a big girl. And so far, you haven't killed me yet. But you've come really close to driving a stake through my heart."

Oh yes, pun intended. He winces, I notice appreciatively, and puts his head in his hands, dropping mine down into his lap.

"Bella, from the bottom of my heart, I cannot tell you how truly apologetic I am. I should have thought—I knew—" The rest of his words were mumbled into his fingers, but I'm pretty sure I heard him call himself a monster.

I rolled my eyes. "Edward, you're not a monster. Stop that." Why have I never noticed how much of a girl he can be? "Look, you're hungry and you can't think straight because I smell good. Go eat."

"Bella, I will never leave you," he whispers, revealing his chiseled face to me and moving closer. He's trying to use his beauty to distract me. It'll probably work.

"Well, you did once," I remind him. After all, that's why we are having this conversation.

"But never again." His eyes are only a few inches from mine and I'm swimming in them.

"Until the next time you think I'm in danger."

"You're in danger every moment I am here."

"Are you going to leave again?" I challenge, my heart shriveling a little bit at the thought. I'm angry and I want him to understand, but I don't want him to leave again. Is that why I played dumb all along? So that I wouldn't accidentally push him away?

He flinches. "No," he says firmly.

"Good. I like danger, anyway."

"You shouldn't—it's bad for you. You could get hurt."

I'm actually really starting to get annoyed at him. "Edward, don't you think I got hurt when you left too? You tore my heart out when you told me you never loved me. Whatever happens, there's danger of getting hurt in different and awfully horrible ways. Go eat and come back, and we can talk about it later."

"Bella…"

"Go, before I get really angry and tell you to take your sparkly ass back to Italy!" I shout, forgetting for a moment that Charlie is asleep down the hall, relishing only in the release of the fury that has built up inside of me.

By the time I finish shouting, Charlie is in the room, gun in hand, and Edward is gone. Thank God.

"Bella, are you okay? Did _he_ come back?" Charlie's face is anxious. I don't blame him—I've put him through hell and back, lying to him, sneaking out, reminding him of memories no one should have to relive. All for a guy. I really need to make this up to Charlie.

"No, Dad. I'm fine. Not even a nightmare. Just… thinking." It's about time I've done some actual thinking.

"You were _shouting_." His tone suggests that he is considering putting me in the mental ward of the hospital. Maybe he should.

"I know, I know," I sigh. "I just thought maybe if I thought out loud I could actually figure a few things out. Sorry to wake you."

"It's okay. Go back to sleep, then. But," he pauses, giving me his stern father-figure look, "we are going to have a talk in the morning, missy. You are in trouble."

"Yeah, Dad." I lie back down on the bed, pulling the covers up over me.

"But I'm glad you're home and safe," he whispers as he shuts the door. I should probably stop taking that man for granted.

I roll over and there's Edward, lying on what space is left on the bed.

"Ugh," I whisper. "Go eat."

"I did."

"The squirrels from the back yard are going to do you no good. Go eat a lion or a tiger or a bear and come back when I'm not tired or cranky. Or else I'm gonna call Jake."

He growls. "You will do no such thing."

"Fine," I sigh, knowing that the reason I'm acquiescing is because his perfect lips are about to touch mine. "But go eat, or else you're going to pose a danger to me and have to leave again. And then I'll really jump off a cliff."

"I would stop you."

"Not if you had already left because you were endangering me," I remind him.

He heaves a sigh, and I know he's frustrated. He stalks towards the window, raises the sash, and poises himself to leap out the window. He turns and glances back towards me, and something makes him pause. Slowly, he moves back over to the side of my bed.

"I love you. Even if none of this makes sense to you, I love you. And I always will." He gazes down at me, for a moment. I can see that in his eyes that he's fighting something. "I deserve this, for putting you through hell—"

"Stop with the self-loathing, please," I say, surprised at the pleading in my voice. "Go eat."

He clamps his lips shut, words I'm sure he really wants to say stuck inside. Sighing, he smoothes my hair back from my forehead and plants a gentle kiss on my forehead, then my temple, my cheek, my nose, and finally my lips.

I am trembling because the feelings he always causes in me are aroused, and my heart thumps erratically.

And then he is gone, out the window.

I am left alone with my thoughts, and I rejoice in myself that I seem to actually being having thoughts.

I know I'll probably accept him back into my life. But not until serious attention is paid to the fact that he can't just make a decision and force me into accepting it. There's no way he can just decide that lying to me is good for me—the ends don't justify the means. Didn't he learn that back in the 1900s? Or for that matter, in the millions of high school and college classes he's taken since becoming a vampire?

Ugh, boys. I thought I didn't understand before he declared his undying love for me. I'm still as lost now as I was then. Only it seems that, finally, I seem to be thinking this over. I haven't done much of it in the past year or so. I used to over-think everything, because frankly that's all I had to do. I didn't have close friends; my only relationships were with my childish mother and my long-distance mute father. I thought I was above everything. Maybe I just liked that Edward seemed to be so beyond my reach.

I don't like that thought too much. But, hey, it's a thought.

Hello, brain. It's nice to have you back again.

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><p><strong>It's a little snarky, I'll admit. But I warned you - if you like BellaEdward fics, this is not necessarily the best to read. **


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